


Tribulations Side Stories

by LadyJanriel



Series: Trials and Tribulations [5]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bananas, Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Double Anal Penetration, Halloween Costumes, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Multi, Pointless, Rimming, Shopping, Slice of Life, Thomas gets sick AGAIN, Threesome - M/M/M, kidnapped hair products
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJanriel/pseuds/LadyJanriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of side stories for the Trials and Tribulations AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halloween Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless side story. This will probably be accompanied with a Halloween addition. I just really like exploring their relationship outside of all the drama.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at [ladyjanriel](http://ladyjanriel.tumblr.com) for more useless Thominewt headcanons and thoughts uvu I have tons. Or [thominewt-week](http://thominewt-week.tumblr.com) for thominewt goodness!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho, ashamed by his boyfriends' lack of preparation for the holiday, decides to take them out to buy costumes.

Halloween was two weeks away and Minho was dishonored by his boyfriend’s lack of preparation. He dragged them to their local Halloween store with the stubborn intent of getting them costumes.

“Minho, we’re not going to let you waste money on us like this.” Newt chided the moment they were inside. “Tommy and I will pay for our own costumes. We can afford that much.”

Minho scoffed. He waved a hand carelessly. “Newt, Newt, my dear sweet silly shuck face,” He drawled.

Newt’s face turned into a dangerous scowl, unimpressed with the boy’s tone. Thomas had a hard time trying not to laugh.

“I’m going to buy your Halloween costume whether you want me to or not. Now you and Thomas go grab something and show me what it is! If I’m buying, I have a say!”

“That’s exactly why we rather bloody pay for it ourselves!”

Thomas laughed. He followed Newt through the aisle, aimlessly eyeing the store’s collection of costumes.

“I swear to God, Tommy, if Minho wants us to dress up like sexy bunnies this year, I’m goin’ to shove this sword so far up his bloody arse he’ll feel it in his stomach.”

Thomas grinned. “Thank you for the visual, Newt.” He plucked the plastic katana from the blond’s hands. “I’m sure he won’t make us dress like that. He wants us to be scary not… sexy.”

“Sexy is good.” Minho grinned. He plopped a black cat headband on top of Thomas’ head and snickered. “That’s hot. Imagine Thomas naked with a leather leash and those ears.”

Thomas face burst in heat.

“Knock it off! He cried. He shoved the black cat headband into Minho’s hard chest, both boys laughing. “I thought you said you wanted us to be scary!”

“I do. That doesn’t mean I can’t tease ya, shank. Although, I wouldn’t mind the two of you dressing sexy if that’s what you want.”

“Ugh.”

“Hey shanks, how ‘bout this?”

Newt pulled out a costume squished inside a plastic bag. The man on the picture was dressed like a cowboy riding an inflatable horse… or bull. Or a creature from hell. Thomas couldn’t tell which.

“Sexy right?” Newt grinned.

Minho gaped the blond with an expression of pure horror.

“Put that down and burn it!”

“I don’t know Min, it’s kind of hot.” Thomas played along. He traced the length of the image with a finger and gave the boy a sultry look. “I can see you rocking that sexy cowboy look.”

Minho’s flabbergasted expression whirled on him, all his humor replaced by true horror.

Thomas and Newt laughed again.

“No, no, no!” The boy frowned. He snatched the offensive costume away from Newt and shoved it deep into the far reaches of Narnia, never to be seen again.

“You slint-heads need to get serious! Pick a good costume or I’m breaking up with all of you.”

“Don’t be such a baby!” Newt rolled his eyes, his expression playful. “We’ll get serious.”

Minho huffed in annoyance but amiably nudged the blond on his way to the next aisle.

Thomas went in a different direction, deciding on a costume. He scanned the rows of potential costumes with a critical eye. He pulled out a few possibilities: a pirate, a video game character, a very disturbing skeletal joker get up. Jeez, the mask on that thing was enough to give him nightmares.

With a heavy sigh, he returned his selections to the rack. Nothing he picked seemed exciting enough.

He made to find Newt and Minho when a black and gold costume caught his attention.

“What’s this?” He pulled out the pick from the rack and examined the costume. It was meant to be Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld.

Thomas grinned.

“Hey Minho!”

He turned hurriedly and smacked hard into Newt’s chest.

“Ugh!”

“Sorry Tommy,” the blonde chuckled.

He grabbed the package from Thomas’ hands before the boy could regain his bearings and examined it with a curious eye. His eyebrows rose into his hairline. “That’s ironic. I was just going to show you the one I got.”

From the shopping bag. Newt pulled out the package. Zeus, the King of the Gods was written in white, bold letters across the image, the man dressed as the god posing proud and regal. Thomas beamed.

“Are we going themed then?”

“I already bought mine so, I guess.” Newt shrugged.

“This is great! I’m buying it!”

“Hold on shuck face,” Minho threw his hands around Thomas’ shoulders from behind, enveloping the shorter boy into an unsuspecting embrace. He took the costume from his hands and stared. He glanced at Newt’s way, eyeing the blond’s chosen costume with a thoughtful expression.

He suddenly pouted.

“I said I was going to buy you a costume!”

“And I told you I was going to buy my own.” Newt retaliated, slipping the package back into the bag. “Besides, Tommy hasn’t bought his yet. Just buy his and let’s go home. I’m bloody starvin’.”

“But I—” Thomas tried, but the older boy pulled away from him, costume still in hand.

“Nope, I’m buying it Thomas. I saw a Poseidon outfit before so we’ll go as the big three.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Maybe we can ask everyone to go as the Greek Gods for the party too. That’ll win us the prize for sure.”

“If Gally isn’t Hephaestus, I’m breaking up with you.”

“You can’t use that against me Thomas. That’s my trick.” Minho snickered.

“It works better with Tommy. I actually felt worried.” Newt winked. He gave each of them a kiss on the lips before heading for the exit. “I’ll be outside. Don’t make me wait or you’re both in the dog house.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Minho grabbed Thomas’ hand with a grin. “C’mon, help me find all the gods. We’re going as the Greeks and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Thomas laughed. He pulled Minho down the aisle, just as excited to gather the rest of the pantheon.


	2. Where Art Thou Banana?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are all the bananas gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm filing this under "pure crack".

Bananas were a real treat for the boys. It wasn’t often they could have fruit seeing as they were expensive and quick to spoil, but Rachel had been sympathetic to their plight. She brought them a small batch of fruits three times in a month and they would praise her. They worshiped the ground she walked on – unless Thomas was allergic, in which case Thomas would give Minho dirty looks as he devoured their chosen fruit of the week and ignore Newt’s chiding to get the boys to stop.

This week, Rachel had given them bananas. They were still a shade between yellow and green and hard to the touch, much too bitter for the boys’ liking.

“Give it a day or two,” she told them. “It’ll be sweet by then.”

Newt left the bananas hanging on their fruit rack for the next two days and found great amusement in his boyfriends’ behavior. Thomas and Minho stared at the fruits at every opportunity. One minute, two minutes, an hour into their conversation, he would look over and find the both of them glancing at the delectable holy fruit, their faces nearly identical. After every four hours, one of them would get up to squeeze a banana and when their fingers would be met with resistance, the pout on their face made Newt want to smother them in kisses.

They were far too adorable.

He loved every second of it.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, Thomas breezed through his classes. He looked forward to having the first bite, had daydreamed about the sweetness of the banana in all of his classes. He burst into the dorm once his classes were done, tossed his bags carelessly against the wall and grabbed the empty air of the fruit rack, his fingers already curling around an imaginary banana.

He paused.

He glanced at the fruit holder, eyeing the conspicuous emptiness.

He stared at his hand, palm up and open. Empty of a banana.

He backed away from the counter with precise slowness and scanned the dorm.

Clean and empty. Devoid of bananas.

With great trepidation, he peered into the garbage can.

Banana peels. Multiple. All yellow and spotty, most definitely delicious and sweet. All eaten.

Thomas nearly collapsed, distraught by the massacre. His boyfriends’ had betrayed him. They ate all the bananas!

Thomas whipped out his phone lightning quick and speed dialed Newt’s number.

“Yes Tommy?”

“You guys ate all the bananas!” He cried, annoyed and dismayed at how pitchy his voice sounded. Newt’s laughter made him bristle. “This isn’t funny! Do you guys have any idea how long it’s been since I had a banana?! Senior year in high school, Newt! That was years ago!”

“Two years ago, actually. Don’t be so dramatic, Tommy.” The blond chuckled. “’sides, I only had one piece. Maybe Minho took the rest to practice?”

“All of them?!” He squeaked and broke into a series of cough that pitch way out of his level of normal.

Newt’s amusement was palpable even through the cell phone.

“Probably just three. He does track Tommy. He needs the energy.”

“He needs the energy?! I need the energy! I’m a growing boy, Newt, I need my banana sustenance!”

“He runs track. You sleep all day.”

“Don’t excuse your boyfriend’s selfish behavior here, Newt!” Thomas huffed. “There was enough bananas for all of us and he took them all without consulting me!”

Newt’s laughter rang through the receiver melodiously. “Oh so he’s my boyfriend when he’s misbehaving? Last I recall, he was yours too. You should have taught him more discipline, Tommy.”

“He took my bananas Newt. He’s dead to me.” Thomas pouted. 

“You are very lucky I have class right now, Tommy, otherwise, I would smother you in kisses. If I see Minho, I’ll ask him ‘bout the bananas. Oh and if you kill him before I get back, we’ve got bleach in one of the bottom cabinets and garbage bags.”

“What if he stains the carpet?”

“We’ll say he had a nose bleed.”

“That’ll work for ten minutes,” Thomas grinned despite himself. “I can’t promise he won’t make a mess.”

“Try to keep the stabbing a minimal then. Love you.”

“Have fun learning nerd. Love you.”

Thomas collapsed onto Newt’s mattress, his arms spread eagle as he blinked up at the ceiling. If Minho really did take all the bananas, Thomas vowed to get back at him, starting with Minho’s precious supply of hair gel. 

 

Five o’clock on the dot, Minho came through the door, all smiles and energy. Thomas body slammed him against the wall, ignoring the way Minho’s wet bangs fell over his eyes or how his tanned skin smelled like apricot body wash. Minho’s dark eyes blinked rapidly, confusing clouding his expression.

Thomas drew close, eyes deadly sharp. His lips shaped into a snarl.

“The bananas Minho. Where are they?”

Minho met his gaze with a blank stare.

“What?”

“The bananas!” Thomas slammed a palm against the wall beside Minho’s head. The track stare didn’t even flinch. “Where have you taken them?!”

The older boy quirked a dark brow in confusion, but something clicked behind his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Thomas’ waist and pulled the boy flush against him, their groins touching. Thomas suppressed the urge to groan, the slight friction of his jeans sending a delicious tingle up his spine. He felt Minho’s breath against his ear, warm and dangerously close.

“I ate them all.” He whispered.

Thomas wrenched himself away, horror written on his face.

Minho’s laughter was boisterous in the quiet dorm.

“You ate them all?! You didn’t even leave me one!”

“Relax, I didn’t eat them all. I ate most of them, but not all. There were like five bananas. Newt had one, I took three, so there should have been one left for you.”

“Do you see a single one here Min?!” Thomas pointed to the rack devoid of bananas. “Where did you leave it? In Narnia??”

Minho stared at the empty fruit rack for a solid ten seconds. “The gremlins must have taken it.” 

“Minho!” The smirk on the older boy’s face was insufferable. Thomas groaned. “Stop it! This isn’t funny! I really wanted those bananas.”

“Oh, trust me shank, its funny.” He chuckled. “You’re seriously getting worked up over a bunch of bananas. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

“You know what would have been cuter, Minho? Me eating a banana!” the boy snapped. He slumped against the counter, disappointed with the whole ordeal. More than anything, he was annoyed. Minho didn’t need to take three bananas for himself, the slint-head.

He gave the boy a scathing glare. On any other person, it would have worried them – scared them even, but to Minho, having Thomas glare at him was like a mouse standing up against a cat. Truly adorable and definitely delectable. 

Minho raised his hands genially. “Oh no please, not the glare. Don’t hate me Thomas, how would I ever survive?”

“You don’t. I’m killing you tonight.”

He laughed. He pulled Thomas into a hug before the boy could protest and stole his lips for a kiss. 

“You’re a cute shank sometimes.” Minho murmured, capturing his lips again. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Thomas grumbled. 

He melted into the embrace and allowed Minho to take his lips again. He could faintly taste the sweetness of his stolen banana on the boy’s tongue.

A click from the doorway stole their attention. Newt stepped into the dorm, a grocery bag in hand. He held up the bag to Thomas, an amused grin still on his lips.

“Went out and bought ya bananas, Tommy.”

Thomas latched onto Newt with a cheerful cry, nearly knocking the tall boy over in his exuberance. Minho pouted.

“I was going to do that.”

“Too late.” Newt chortled. “Tommy loves me more now. You can sleep in the dog house. Pay for your crimes, Minho.”

Minho gasped theatrically. He pressed a hand against his chest and fluttered his lashes rapidly. “You dare punish me for eating all the bananas? And here I thought I was your favorite shank.”

“You’ve dishonored us. You’re a banana fiend now.”

Thomas tore a piece from the bundle of bananas and quickly peeled the yellow, spotty skin. He moaned into the bite, feeling his teeth sink into the soft, sweet tasting fruit. His second bite led to another loud, slow moan, his taste buds exploding in ecstasy. 

Both boys eyed the banana almost jealously.

“I think we should ban bananas from the dorm.” Minho proposed on Thomas’ third groan. “That thing puts us to shame.”

“Don’t be jealous Min,” Newt snickered, patting the boy on the shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll invite you to bed.”

“Hah haha, very funny shank.”

Minho grabbed another piece of banana and joined Thomas in banana heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas getting worked up over a banana seems a lot safer than him getting worked up over everything else -- like his troubles :3


	3. A Moment of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thomas is a little shit and Minho gets what he’s deserved for eating all the bananas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Day 4 of [Thominewt Week](http://thominewt-week.tumblr.com/thominewt-week), but I'm posting it here because it IS a Tribulations side story.

There weren’t a lot of rules in the dorm, just the usual common sense things like clean up after yourself, respect everyone’s privacy and no unwanted visitors at strange hours of the day. Luckily for Thomas, the only unwanted visitors he received at weird hours of the day were his boyfriends’ crawling into bed with him. But that didn’t mean they didn’t have certain other rules.

Newt was a stickler for wanting to keep his clothes organized. He wasn’t so much as an “unbearable neat freak” but when it came to his closet, especially when sharing with Thomas, having their clothes be all over the place was one of the quickest ways to get on the blond’s bad side. As sexy as it was to have Newt glare death at him, Thomas really didn’t want to be subjected to it all the time. As for Thomas, he preferred they keep their junk off his bed at all times. That wasn’t too much to ask, right?

Minho’s request was fairly simple as well: don’t touch the hair products.

Thomas usually respected his boyfriends’ wishes, as they would for his, but after Minho had blatantly eaten all of the bananas a few days ago, he wasn’t feeling so respectful to Minho’s property. (Perhaps he was being a little childish and bitter getting upset over something as simple as bananas, but they were just so rare and delectable and Minho wouldn’t stop making fun of his reaction for days after it. Thomas just… wanted to teach the athlete a little lesson, that’s all.)

He waited until Minho had gone on his early morning job to strike.

He searched through the dresser for the hair supplies and gathered the lot into a small basket Minho usually used for their bathroom supplies. He didn’t understand why Minho had ten different types of gels and creams for his hair, or why the athlete bothered to keep up with appearances in the first place. He and Newt didn’t care what they looked like, and they certainly didn’t care whether or not Minho’s hair was gelled to perfection or flat against his skull. (Honestly, Thomas preferred it flat. He liked how soft it felt when he ran his fingers through it.) They liked Minho for who he is, not how he looked.

With the last hair product inside the basket, Thomas glanced over to the garbage can and debated on tossing them out. It’d be a little cruel, having Minho waste all his money like that. It wasn’t like Thomas wanted him to suffer too much, he just wanted to teach the boy a lesson.

He bit his lip.

He slid the basket under their bunk and wiped his hands clean of sin. He quickly slammed the dresser shut just as Newt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his head.

“You’re awake early, Tommy. I thought you didn’t function until nine?”

“I heard the call of the wild.” He shrugged. He leaned against the dresser and flashed Newt an innocent smile.

The frown was on Newt’s face faster than Thomas could blink.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Newt’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What. Did. You. Do?” With each word, his stare grew more penetrating and dangerous.

Thomas tried not to sweat.

“I did absolutely nothing, Newtie.”

The blond’s eyes suddenly widened. “You called me ‘Newtie’, you bloody did somethin’!” He gaped. “Out with it Thomas!”

The brunet gasped in mock horror. “You called me ‘Thomas’! I must be in trouble.”

“And you’re avoidin’ the subject, which leads me to believe you’ve done a terrible crime against humanity.” Newt’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You touched Minho’s hair supplies, didn’t you?”

“Noooo,” he drawled. “I’m not that cruel. I would never do that to Minho.”

Newt was in his face in seconds. He smelled like apricot body wash and mint toothpaste.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he droned, his accent thick. He pulled Thomas aside with a gentle shove and reopened the drawer.

Thomas knew better than to stick around. He made a beeline for the door before Newt could register the emptiness of the drawer.

“Tommy!”

He bolted.

He barely made it past the doorway when he body slammed solidly into Gally. Both boys crashed to the floor in a comical display of pain and tangled limbs. Everyone in the hall stopped to stare. Gally, who managed to gain enough of his bearings to realize what happened, opened his mouth to retaliate, but Newt yanked Thomas back to his feet before he could run again.

“You shank—!”

“You better not bloody run like a lovin’ coward, Tommy! Face your sins!”

“What the hell is going on?”

All eyes turned to Minho. He stood a few feet away from the boys, freshly washed from his run, his hair matted down with water. He eyed Gally still sprawled on the ground curiously then to Thomas and Newt.

“There better be a really good story behind why the slinthead’s on the ground.”

Gally scowled.

“Your roommate practically bowled me over!”

“You ruined my escape!”

“You shouldn’t have been running! Don’t you ever follow the rules?!”

“Don’t you know I’m allergic to rules?!”

“Enough!” Newt pulled Thomas further away from Gally, his grip on Thomas’ arm uncomfortably tight. “Knock it off! We have more important matters here!”

Gally opened his mouth in rebuttal but Minho beat him to it.

“What’s going on?”

“Tommy touched your hair gel. Now it’s gone.”

A moment of silence filled the hallway. Thomas cringed. Minho stared at Newt with a blank expression, as though unable to process what he just heard. The blond nodded in confirmation while Thomas tried his best to appear inconspicuous despite Newt’s iron grip on his arm.

Gally simply looked dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry Gally, can you excuse us?” Minho began, oddly polite.

Gally was too stunned for words.

Minho followed his boyfriends into the dorm then shut the door behind him. He turned to Thomas slowly, took in a deep breath and exhaled.

Thomas braced himself for the explosion.

“Thomas, I love you. I thought… I believed we could have been something special, but now? I have to kill you.”

“You ate my banana!”

“Oh for the love of—“ Newt cried out behind him.

Minho scowled. “You threw out my expensive hair gel because of that? That was literally a week ago Thomas! Do you have any idea how expensive those hair products are?”

Thomas huffed. “First of all, I hid them, I didn’t throw them out. Secondly, you should know by now that I’m a bitter person.”

“Hell yeah you are! You know what? Fine.” Minho threw the towel he’d been carrying onto the boy’s bed much to his chagrin. Minho screwed up his face theatrically.

“Oh no, what have I done? I got my mess all over your bed, Thomas. Oh no, oh gee, what a clumsy shank I am.” He dead panned.

Thomas stared at him with exaggerated revulsion. “You’re incorrigible! I can’t believe you! Newt!”

“Don’t drag me into this. You two stay on your side of the bed and I’ll stay on mine.”

“Fine! You know what Min? You look ridiculous with your hair spiked up like that anyway!”

Minho gasped in genuine horror. “You did not just say that! At least I care about my looks! Unlike some people in this room right now!”

“Don’t insult Newt like that, Min!”

“What did I bloody just say about draggin’ me into this?!” Newt huffed.

Both boys suddenly burst into laughter at his outcry. Newt dragged them into an open arm hug and knocked their heads together, taking great pleasure in their pained groans.

“Bloody shanks, the lot of ya.” He grumbled. “You’re both grounded!”

“Don’t punish me! Thomas is the troublemaker here. He’s the one allergic to following the rules.”

“Hey! Don’t make fun of my disability, Minho!”

“You’re right,” Newt turned to Thomas: “Tommy, disability or not, you should know better than to keep your impulses in check.” – Thomas gaped – “Therefore, you’re grounded. Sit in the corner and think about your crimes. No cuddling for you.”

“Fine!” He tried for a pout, but the smile on his face made it difficult for it to stick. “Like I want to cuddle with you two shanks anyway!”

Before he could turn his back, Minho and Newt pulled him in for another hug. They ruffled his hair affectionately and showered him in kisses until they were all laughing at their antics.

Minho didn’t find his basket full of hair supplies until nightfall.


	4. Down with the Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the week before finals and Thomas' immune system decides it's the perfect time to come down with something gross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Isabelle, who requested a Thomas-centric sick fic. 
> 
> This side story is actually rather important. We'll be seeing this sickness again~

Thomas was starting to believe he had the worst immune system in the world. Newt was supposed to be the one who got sick more times than he can count, not him. Worse yet, to get sick a week before finals? It was just his luck. It was like his body had a vendetta against him this semester.

He already knew he was sick before he opened his eyes that morning. His dreams were plagued with nonsense and his body seemed to ache in a way that was beyond his muscular level. His throat didn’t feel scratchy or dry, thank goodness, but his head felt hazy, like someone had turned on the blur function on a camera. He couldn’t grasp the thoughts lurking in his head save for the most basic function. There was an ache behind his eyes that pulsed in time to his heart. It made him lethargic. Apathetic.

He was hungry. Exhausted.

He did not want to move for anything.

But making his boyfriends worry about his well-being was something he did not want to deal with.

Thomas forced his heavy limbs to rise. One glance at the clock told him he was up far beyond a time that was socially acceptable for him. Across the room, he gave a tender look to the softly breathing mound that was Newt’s body, curled warmly beneath his sheets.

He could hear Minho’s snoring just above him, the athlete not yet awake for his early morning run. Thomas struggled to move. His muscles screamed at him to go back to sleep with every step he took, his movements sluggish and unsteady. His chest felt constricted, like something were squeezing his lungs with every breath. It was uncomfortable, but Thomas was stubborn. He grabbed his bathroom necessities and dragged his half dead body to the showers.

Newt and Minho were already gone by the time he returned. He was grateful for the absence, the silence music to his sensitive ears. He had struggled through the movements of cleaning himself and nearly panicked when the steam in the shower almost suffocated him. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep away the sickness.

And perhaps he would. Minho wouldn’t be back for another thirty minutes and Newt often took him out for breakfast afterwards. A quick nap seemed exactly what he needed.

Thomas collapsed into his bed like a sack of flour and disappeared into the void.

 

“T–my?”

Thomas groaned.

“—ommy…”

Something nudged him. Shook him lightly.

Thomas tried to swat away the nuisance but wasn’t sure if his muscles responded. His arms felt like lead. His chest still tight.

“Hey Thomas.”

His lids fluttered heavily. Newt sat beside him, a tender yet anxious gleam in his eyes. Minho grinned down at him as he leaned into the bunk, his expression impish. Yet, like Newt, there was a glimmer of concern behind those dark eyes, one had trouble masking.

“Must have been a nice dream. You wouldn’t wake up for nothing.” The athlete grinned. “C’mon shank, get up. We’ve got daylight to burn.”

“We brought you breakfast.” Newt held up a bag from the cafeteria, WCKD U’s mascot smiling stupidly right back at him.

It was a struggle, but Thomas managed to pass off his uncoordinated movements to still being half-asleep. He certainly felt like he was. He wished the throbbing in his head would stop.

Newt fixed his breakfast on a paper plate – an egg sandwich with an apple on the side and a bottle of OJ, still chilled.

They watched him warily as he ate, his chewing slow as molasses and his movements about as graceful as a drunkard. Minho cracked a few jokes to lighten the tension, but Thomas didn’t feel like he had the energy to laugh. He merely smiled and rolled his sore eyes.

He couldn’t finish his sandwich or the apple.

Newt eyed the food with trepidation.

“That’s all; you’re eating Tommy?”

He swallowed the piece in his mouth with a grimace. “Yes,” He breathed.

Newt tossed out the remainder of his plate. “You’re going to get hungry later.”

“Then well grab something else.” Minho replied. He tossed Thomas’ coat and sweater his way, already bundled up and ready to go. “Get dressed shank. We’re going to the mall.”

“Yay,” Thomas drawled.

The harmless glare Minho shot him made Thomas chuckle feebly.

 

He was uncomfortably hot underneath the layers of winter clothes. Newt had insisted he bundle up. The weather was unfavorable and bitterly cold, and although Thomas was grateful for Newt’s hindsight, he hadn’t factored his own sickness into the equation. He was burning up.

The mall was bustling with people doing their holiday shopping. The cacophony of noise assaulting Thomas’ ears made his headache pulse unbearably. He felt exhausted despite the nap, his limbs trembling from the excess use. He was grateful for Newt’s presence. If it weren’t for him holding his hand and urging him forward, Thomas was certain he’d have collapsed before they even set foot in the complex.

“You’re sick.” Newt declared the moment they stopped at a gaming store. “And don’t you bloody deny it, Tommy. You’re sick and you should be resting.”

“I’ll be okay—“

Newt’s scathing glare didn’t seem so dangerous beneath the hot haze of sickness. In fact, it made Thomas laugh.

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “See? You’re laughing after my glare. You’re sick!”

Thomas leaned into the blond’s study frame, the world suddenly spinning. Newt draped an arm around his waist for support. “Tommy, stay with me okay? I’ll get you home soon enough. Minho!”

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured despite the weakness in his legs. A long shuddering breath escaped his chapped lips.

Why did everything feel like it was on fire?

“Minho! We have to go.”

Newt’s voice came out muffled and distorted like Thomas were somehow underwater, listening in on the boy’s conversation. The chaos of noise cut away suddenly. He blinked. A loud, high pitched ring sounded in his ears, filling the mall and aggravating his headache.

Thomas watched Newt turn to him, his lips moving but no words escaping. The blond pulled away, quickly vanishing into the crowd inside the s tore. Thomas swayed on his feet.

He was hot. He was sore.

He was exhausted from the effort of moving and now he couldn’t hear. He wished the floor would stop swaying. Wished his lungs would cooperate for once and actually let him breathe instead of the wheezy, tiny gulps of air he managed to suck in every once in a while.

But more importantly, Thomas wished he’d stay in bed and slept away the sickness.

Darkness ate at the edges of his vision. Suddenly, Thomas felt light. There was a wind in his hair, an airy weight to his sluggish, heavy limbs. For one moment, he felt like he could fly. Until he realized… humans weren’t meant to fly.

The crashing weight of reality smacking into his shoulder knocked him out before he could understand what happened.

 

He woke up to the sight of a white tiled ceiling and the rhythmic beat of a heart monitor by his ears. The humiliated disappointed groan escaped his lips before he could stop himself. He buried his face behind his hands, his arms still sore and his head still pounding, but at least he could hear again.

“You have to stop getting sick Tommy.”

Thomas slowly dropped his hands and gave Minho an apologetic smile. The boy’s own expression seemed weak in comparison.

“You keep giving us tachycardia.” He joked.

Thomas sighed. “What was it this time?”

“They’re still running tests.” Newt replied, looking as exhausted as he sounded.

“They’re going to keep you here for observations.”

“Great.” He deadpanned. “I’m so sorry guys. I—“

They squeezed his hands, silencing him.

“We’re just happy you’re awake.”

“You should have seen yourself,” Newt continued. There was a tremble in his hands that didn’t show. “You looked like the walking dead.”

“Gee thanks.”

They chuckled, their mood sobering.

“Seriously though,” Minho frowned. “Stop hiding every time you get sick. If you feel bad, just tell us.”

“I don’t want you guys to worry.”

“We’re going to worry regardless. We might as well know why we’re worrying.”

Thomas clutched their hands tightly. “I don’t want to put you guys in the same situation we were before with Newt. That was horrifying. I don’t want to ever have to go through that again, let alone make you both go through it.” 

Newt pressed his forehead against Thomas’ temple, his breath warm against the boy’s skin.

“Please just be forward with us, Tommy. Promise me that.”

“I promise.” He sighed. Newt pulled away with a reluctant smile.

“I brought us some cards.” Minho fished into his sweater pockets and pulled out a pack of UNO cards. “Feeling up to it?”

He didn’t, not really. His body begged him for more sleep, but Thomas was tired of missing out on these moments like this. He flashed his boyfriends a genuine smile and released their hands.


	5. Double the Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho convinces Thomas and Newt to make a sex tape. 
> 
> (Warning: Explicit chapter; double penetration)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was practicing writing smut when it occurred to me that there IS supposed to be a scene like this in Trials and Tribulations and decided to make it sexually explicit because... it already was... 
> 
> It's unedited because my usual Beta reader has finals this coming week so they don't have the time to edit it. Mind the typos.
> 
> There is no actual plot to this scene, but the most important thing is the camera. You can skip it if you wish~

Thomas stood, naked and warily eyeing the camera perched on the tripod, its red light blinking tauntingly. He clutched his right arm, blunt nails digging into his flesh.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Honestly? Probably not.” Minho laughed.

He sprawled onto the bed, naked as the day he was born and surprisingly perky. His dick stood at attention, ready for the real fun to get rolling. Newt was the only one still partially dressed, his blue boxers an oddly comforting sight to Thomas. He fiddled with the camera, adjusting it until it was positioned to his liking. He peeked into it briefly before he pulled away, pale cheeks pink.

He heaved a heavy sigh then stripped off his boxers, his half-harden member bobbing from the movement.

Thomas felt himself flush.

“You two look great,” Newt complimented, stealing another peek from the camera. “Like a couple of shuck-faced greenies in their first amateur porn vid. How bloody wonderful.”

“Good that,” Minho grinned. “We’ll make a great threesome.” He patted the mattress, giving Thomas a sultry look. “Come over Thomas. I have a friend who really misses you.”

“This is the stupidest idea ever.” He laughed, a bit hysterically. Thomas crawled onto the mattress, his muscles tense and uncomfortable. “We’re really going to fuck in front of a camera? What if someone finds it? How are we going to explain that?”

“It’s for our memories, Tommy.” The blond explained, though he scowled.  
Thomas guessed he didn’t buy that excuse either.

Minho laid flat on his back, his arms folded behind his head. He seemed so comfortable and relaxed despite the ever daunting red light blinking away at them. Thomas felt envious. How could Minho not care what they were about to do?

“You two are being awfully shy.” He teased. “You’ll send me naughty texts but you won’t do this one little thing for me? Terrible.”

Thomas bristled. He positioned himself in between Minho’s legs, his backside facing the camera. Minho’s lecherous smile turned hopeful, the excitement sparkling in his dark eyes. It took Thomas a moment to regain his confidence.

He stared down at Minho’s pert length, pink and thick, his veins prominent against his skin. A bead of pre-cum oozed out of Minho’s slit, the boy’s excitement mounting. It shouldn’t have surprised him, not with Minho’s bad habits of sending them risqué text messages whenever he was home alone, but out of the three of them, it was obvious Minho seemed most into videotaping their actions.

Newt slipped behind him, large hands grasping his pale shoulders. His lips brushed along the shell of his ear, his breath hot against his skin.

“Just go with the flow.” He murmured. He licked the length of the brunet’s ear, his fingers trailing down his arms to his waist in slow sensual movements. Thomas shuddered from his touch.

Minho licked his lips.

Thomas started first.

He crawled up Minho’s frame and captured the boy’s full lips with his. Kissing was always the best way to get Thomas into the mood. There was something about molding his lips together with Newt or Minho that flipped a switch in his mind. It never failed to arouse him, even with the most innocent of kisses.

He let Minho dominate the kiss, the boy’s wet tongue a happy invader. Newt’s hands traveled along his body. Those calloused fingers caressed the sides of his waist then dipped down the length of his thighs and then up deliciously slow to the mounds of his ass. He squeezed him affectionately and chuckled when the brunet groaned into Minho’s mouth.

Minho’s warm hands snaked around Thomas’ neck, pilling him deeper into their kiss.

Heat pooled into the pit of his stomach, and Thomas felt the blood rushing between his legs. He pulled away from Minho then, and made to move when Newt pulled him back; his back arched against the younger male. He snatched Thomas’ chin and stole the boy’s lips. Thomas’ moan music to their ears.

“Great,” Minho managed, breathless. “You’re in the mood now.”

Thomas wanted to retort, but words turned to mush. He was far too entranced with Newt’s tongue and the ticklish touches Minho traced along his hips for his brain to properly function. He worked on autopilot afterwards, driven by the single minded desire to pleasure his lovers.

His mouth engulfed the full length of Minho’s dick, relishing the startled gasp that escaped the haughty boy’s lips. At the same moment, Newt spread apart Thomas’ cheeks, admiring the perk hole that begged for the blond’s attention. He moaned around a mouthful of Minho as Newt’s slick tongue licked his ring.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Minho groaned.

He threw his head back against the pillow, grasping the bed sheets in ecstasy. Thomas licked along the trail of his veins. He sucked the tip of Minho’s head, dipping his tongue into the boy’s slit to lap up the pre-cum oozing out in translucent pearls. Minho’s breath came out heavy, his muscles slowly tensing.

Thomas had a hard time focusing on his task. Newt’s expert tongue lapped his rim with impish delight. He licked circles along the puckered pinkness and slipped inside with relative ease. Thomas gasped at the intrusion, his low guttural groan sent vibration down Minho’s throbbing dick.

“Okay, okay!” The older boy gasped. He ran a shaky hand through his sweaty hair. “Let’s do this before I explode all over Tommy’s face.”

“Mmm, I’d like to see that.” Newt hummed. He reached down to the ground for the bottle of lube.

Thomas held out his palm for a glob of the slick product, but Newt batted him away. Minho snickered at the boy’s confused look.

“Oh no Tommy, you’re not using this.” He slathered a generous helping along his meaty length then tossed the bottle Minho, who readily poured a large glop onto his sweaty palm.

Thomas’ heart quickened. He swallowed.

“Uh, y-you two aren’t going to do what I think you’re going to… right?”

Newt leaned into Thomas. He planted a tender kiss against the boy’s flushed shoulder.

Minho grinned, sensing the blond’s devilish delight. “Depends what you think we’re gonna do.” With one hand, he lathered his penis with the greasy glob, the other pulled Thomas into another kiss.

Newt took the boy’s moment of distraction to slip a moistened finger into his hole. Thomas gasped into Minho’s mouth, the familiar yet strange sensation stirring warmth within him. Newt’s slick finger prepped him. He expertly lathered his walls, his opening and slipped a second finger inside to stretch him further. In truth, Thomas didn’t need all that much preparation, but if Newt and Minho planned on taking him at once, he hoped Newt would be thorough. Even if he was used to both their lengths separately, having them shoved into him all at once was a different kind of stretch.

The blond’s hot, throbbing thickness speared through Thomas unexpectedly. He tore away from Minho’s dangerous lips with a high pitched groan, his body automatically arching in a downward curve. Minho took that moment to pull Newt’s face into his, their kiss swollen lips feverish and desperate. Having Newt draw in closer to Minho pushed his hardness further inside Thomas, who gasped and whined pathetically at the intrusion. He felt his sphincter throb desperately around Newt’s dick, torn between pushing it out and pulling it in.

The thought of Minho trying to slip inside sent a shiver of anxiety and anticipation down his spine.

They pulled away, flushed face and breathless. A string of saliva tore between their swollen lips.

“Hurry up and get him ready,” Minho panted, his tone needy.

Newt chuckled. “You’re so needy, Min.”

Thomas whined in response, his thoughts too muddy to contribute. It made his lovers’ laugh.

“I’m not the only one.”

Newt took his tie with Thomas. His thrusts were agonizingly slow and rhythmic. In and out. In. Out. Any other day, this pace would have been perfect, but something inside Thomas urged the blond for more. He begged, even went so far as to reach out for his neglected member, but Newt snatched his hands away and allowed Minho to keep them restrained for the time being.

A few more agonizingly slow thrusts later, Newt pulled away with an embarrassingly pop.

“Okay,” he panted. “C’mon, easy does it.”

He guided Thomas carefully over Minho and watched as the brunet slid down the older boy’s eager dick with an erotic squelch. Minho hummed in appreciation, relishing the slick walls encasing his sensitive hardness.

They had never practiced this before. They usually took turns in their threesomes, though Minho often preferred to be the giver. Taking Thomas at the same time had been his idea, and yet, watching Newt tower over them as he carefully pressed into Thomas’ overstuffed hole was enough to make Minho cum right then and there. They both looked so divine: Newt’s brows furrowed and focused; Thomas’ face scrunched into barely contained ecstasy and pain.

Thomas felt completely loaded with them inside. The burn was not too unpleasant. Newt’s dick had always been on the thicker side of the spectrum, having him and Minho stretching his walls, filling him to the brim was an erotic experience. His own penis ached for relief.

When Newt moved, he nearly cried.

“Ah shit!” Minho hissed. “Shuck me…”

Newt groaned, his movements slow. He gripped tightly on Thomas’ waist, blunt nails biting crescents into his flesh.

“Oh god!” Thomas gasped. He fell onto Minho’s torso, his arms weak from the strain.

They move in tandem, Newt pulled out, Minho pushed in. The rhythmic movements kept Thomas on edge. It didn’t take long for them to pick up speed and soon, their room was filled with the erotic music of skin smacking skin and the moist squelches of lube. Among the chorus of noise was Thomas’ high careening gasps.

He buried his nose into the crook of Minho’s neck, crying and gasping into the boy’s sweaty flesh. He drooled onto the pillow, his fingers desperately grasping for purchase. Newt’s thrusts were building speed and strength, whilst Minho struggled to keep up. Thomas’ weight against him restricted most of his movements.

“Oh god, please! Please!” Thomas begged. “Minho! Newt!”

“Shit. Shit.” Obscenities poured out of Minho’s lips.

Newt’s only commentary were his heavy labored breaths.

They lost rhythm in their desperate battle for release. They struck Thomas’ prostrate in unison, making the younger male shriek so loud, Minho felt his ears ring. Thomas came with a burst across Minho’s abs, the white spunk hearty and thick. They milked him until Thomas was twitching on top of Minho, his body sweaty and flushed, his dick too sensitive to touch. His walls tightening around them sent Newt into his climax. He poured his seed into the boy’s ass just as Minho’s orgasm slammed into him and together, Thomas could feel their loads invade his insides.

Newt pulled away first. He collapsed beside them, his chest heaving, body exhausted. Thomas rolled off a second later.

He grimaced. It still felt weird to have that much cum inside him.

“Shuck me,” Minho breathed. “That was hot as hell. Did we get that on camera?”

Thomas and Newt stilled, their afterglow quickly dissipating.

Minho eyed them lazily, sensing their tension. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Newt was out bed before either of them could move.

“Newt, wait! Come on!” Minho cried. He flew after Newt, who had taken the camera and stormed out of the room. “Don’t erase it! It’s for our collection!”

“Not a bloody chance, Minho!”

Thomas curled onto his side, deliciously sore and utterly spent. He tried to focus on his lovers’ petty quarrel, but his eye lids fluttered shut, too heavy to hold up any longer. The sound of their voices faded off into the background, darkness overwhelming him. He was dead asleep before they returned.


	6. Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not technically an update, just an extension to the last chapter. 
> 
> For Latch_is_what_I_want_to_be_called, who wanted Newt and Minho to take care of Thomas after their previous activities :3 
> 
> Sorry it's super short tho ;w;

Thomas was pulled from his slumber by the feel of damp cloth brushing his sensitive sphincter. He jerked awake, nearly kicking Newt on the side and smacking Minho hard in the face.

“Ugh! Thomas!”

“Wha – aahh!” He tensed. The lukewarm wash cloth brushed along his ring again, the burn unpleasant and painful.

Newt hushed him delicately, holding Thomas down by the back of his thigh. He swiped along Thomas’ ass again, his fingers clutching tight as the boy twitched from the discomfort.

“I’m sorry Tommy.” He sighed. “I should have noticed this sooner.”

Minho grumbled. He pulled Thomas closer to him, smoothing down his bed head with affectionate caresses. His touch eased the panic that swelled within Thomas’ chest, but his unease remained, clouding his confusion.

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re allergic to the damn lube we used.” The track star muttered, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Newt’s cleanin’ ya up.”

“Oh… is that wh – ah!” Thomas jerked again, the burn sharp and irritating. 

He whimpered.

“Sorry,” Newt murmured. He finally set the cloth aside and took his place behind Thomas. He curled into him, their naked bodies flush against the other. The burn still radiated from Thomas’ backside, but the presence of both his lovers so close eased the discomfort Thomas felt. Minho and Newt pressed a kiss to his flesh: one on his temple, the other between his shoulder blades.

“You were so amazing, Thomas.” Minho whispered against his hair. “So beautiful.”

Heat pooled into his cheeks. Thomas buried his nose into Minho’s chest, feeling embarrassed for more than his allergy. 

“Shut up Min, you’re embarrassing me.”

“He’s right Tommy,” Newt chuckled. “The sounds you made were so erotic.”

“Not you too!”

His lovers chuckled.

Newt draped an arm across them, his pale hand still hot and damp from the wash cloth. He rubbed small, delicate circles along Minho’s hip, the athlete’s tense body melting beneath his touch. 

Thomas watched from the corner of his eye, contented with their position and sore from their previous activities. 

“I never told you this but, you cum a lot for a shank who has issues holding an erection.”

Newt’s thumb stilled.

Thomas groaned. 

Minho snickered. “What? Did I ruin the mood?”

“Shut up Minho.” They chorused.

Minho’s whole body rumbled with laughter.


End file.
